


Warm, Bright and Full

by goldenteaset



Category: Shadow of the Colossus
Genre: As in the barest of implications; most of its in the past, Breastfeeding, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Implied Sexual Content, Old Wives' Tales, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Shippy Gen, Spoilers, Starvation, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:44:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: "After Mono finds the baby in the lush, tranquil garden Agro found for her, she begins seeing shadows out of the corner of her eye."Mono will do what she can to survive, to supply for her baby. If that entails meeting a ghost and taking an offer, so be it.





	Warm, Bright and Full

**Author's Note:**

> No matter what I tried, adding any more tags made this sound _far_ more erotic than it actually is. This is what happens when I overthink how Mono's going to feed baby!Wander, and if shadow!Wander still had a little of Dormin's power left. /ramble
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Shadow of the Colossus.

Mono watches the Forbidden Land bloom around her and wonders.

She and Agro haven’t left the Shrine of Worship, being both weary and wary. It’s a strange feeling, being brought back from death—it’s as if Mono was asleep for a hundred years and only a second simultaneously. She sits on the Shrine steps and thinks about what to do.

There’s plenty to see from where she sits: rolling fields with rusty patches of dirt slowly regaining their lush coloring, bottle-green trees as huge and still as mountains, and a towering, winding bridge of mossy stone that stretches toward parts unknown.

Every so often Mono catches a quick glimpse of an eagle flying overhead, its cry almost mocking.

She turns her attention to poor Agro’s wounded leg, as the mare stands beside her. She wants to show her gratitude to Agro’s loyalty, since her rider…

The warm breeze carries off Mono’s sigh, and her hair and Agro’s sway briefly. _How did Wander stand it, without anyone else for company? He was probably…very lonely._

But then she remembers: Wander often said that he didn’t need anyone else but her and Agro. He’d had both with him in this ever-silent land, after a fashion. And no one could focus intensely on a task quite like Wander.

Mono looks at Agro and feels determination rise within her. “If Wander could survive here,” she says, her voice a hoarse whisper from not speaking for so long, “Then together, what can we do?”

Agro whickers softly and lips Mono’s hair, making her laugh.

“I’m sure you took good care of Wander while I was away,” she says, stroking Agro’s neck. “Do you know where to find food?”

Agro knows the word well; she flicks her tail and with agonizing slowness limps away. She looks back to Mono, as if waiting for her to follow.

With the faint promise of survival, Mono follows.

\---

After Mono finds the baby in the lush, tranquil garden Agro found for her, she begins seeing shadows out of the corner of her eye.

There’s no pattern to be seen: she spots them whether it’s in the pale hours of morning or the moonless dark of night. The shadow, always the same shape and height, is the only constant.

Wise Agro seems aware of the shadow too, and stays close to Mono’s side, protecting her and the baby.

Each haphazard sighting doesn’t fill her with fear, as it should. Instead she feels strangely comforted. If she thought long enough and looked deep inside herself, she would realize that each glimpse brings with it a feeling of heated nostalgia.

She bends her every thought, every breath, toward survival. The shadow lingers more and more, and she allows it.

\---

_Not long ago I buried my hands in Wander’s hair and drew him to my body. It felt like my flesh became the sun, warm, bright and full…_

These memories come to her when the horned baby strains to suckle her breasts for milk. She hates that she has nothing to give him. Part of her feels that her body’s betraying her by reviving such pleasant days at a time like this.

 But then again…

 She remembers talking to the elder women of the village, and how if ones’ breasts are massaged long enough, milk will spill forth. At the time, it seemed unimportant—but now, with this thin, whimpering child staring up at her so desperately, she reconsiders.

Perhaps her body hasn’t betrayed her after all.

Thankfully, Mono and her companions are resting in the rooftop garden, so she’s able to rest her baby swaddled in her cloak while she…provides. Her pleasant exploration of her body gains a practical use.

She closes her eyes to shut out the sun dappling through the green leaves above. With a long inhale and a quiet exhale, she envisions Wander in her mind’s eye. She has a few fumbling, fleeting memories to use—and when she runs out of those, she’ll fantasize.

 _What if the elders were wrong?_ The thought slithers into her mind, and she forces it aside. _This is the only chance we have—the child and myself. If this is what’s needed to live on, I’ll do it._

The grass tickles her neck and bare feet as she slowly slips her hands beneath her dress. She feels fragments of sunlight ripple across her skin, and a delicious shiver follows suit.

_This is a beginning._

\---

Days later, she wishes she remembered how long the process takes. She doesn’t see any change, though her skin feels slightly tender now.

She keeps herself busy, foraging for food, tending to Agro and the child as best she can, and in the moments in between she massages her breasts and prays for milk. While her prayers have been unanswered so far, she hasn’t given up yet. As far as she knows, she’s healthy in mind and body, and her family had acquired a handsome dowry for her. _And Wander…well, Wander cared for me regardless of all that._

Each time the baby cries, her heart is weighed down with desperation. Despite her best efforts, the bruise-purple berries she finds are sour and only make her sick, and she has no way to hunt.

She shuffles inside the temple, out of options. She peers up at the eerie green light that spills out of the hole in the temple’s ceiling, wondering if the legends were true—if Wander prayed to the sealed god.

The hairs on her neck rise; someone is watching her.

She whips her head around to look for the source, her hair brushing against her shoulders. Her body shivers with a strange, haunted cold.

Her eyes finally settle on a shadow, crouched by the altar as if waiting for someone.

It’s faint, almost unnoticeable, but Mono knows Wander’s form well. Even drenched in darkness, hunched over like his very existence weighs him down, there’s only one person who makes her heart rise like the dawn traveling over the mountains.

“Wander, is that…?” The words weigh down her tongue, tumble out uselessly into the silence.

The shadow that looks like Wander slowly rises to its feet and comes closer. Her vision blurs and stings—she knows that clumsy walk, from so many days spent on the saddle. But there’s something else in his movements, a slight limp that reminds her of Agro. Every step brings this shadow-Wander pain, and she hates it.

A mountain breeze brushes her face, carrying Wander’s voice from far away. “ _You are caring for the child?_ ”

Mono nods. She rests her hands at the rib-flanked hollow of her belly. “But…there seems so little I can do for him.”

The shadow cocks his head to one side, wisps of smoke dancing about its head and shoulders. “ _But you are Mono._ ” He sounds utterly baffled.

A sad hiccup of a laugh escapes her lips. “Forgive me, Wander, but I’m no goddess. I’m just a cursed girl from the village.”

The shadow doesn’t seem pleased at that notion. But instead he shrugs one shoulder, and the wind whispers “ _Come closer. There may be something I can do._ ”

Mono doesn’t hesitate; there is no menace in those bone-pale eyes, no lurking betrayal in his posture. What she sees is Wander, just as tired and hopeful and yearning as she is. Even now, in this strange place where the land stretches on and on like an unfinished tapestry, she knows he will never hurt her.

They stand before each other, one a creature of smoke and shadow, the other a creature of bone and fraying wool. She’s still a little taller than him, and it gives her bittersweet comfort.

“What are you going to do?” she asks, as the shadow slowly, hesitantly lifts a hand.

“ _I have a little of Dormin’s power in me_ ,” the wind says wistfully from far away. “ _I hope it will be enough._ ”

In the distance, she can hear the baby begin to wail again. It’s a faint, desperate sound, the cry of something struggling to survive and failing. She’s counted his tiny, fragile ribs in the still of the night, and felt the sunken pit where his belly should be. _We shouldn’t match._

She’s out of options. Until a moment ago, borrowing an ancient power wasn’t close to a possibility. Now, the chance for survival is in her grasp, and she needs to take it for all their sakes.

So Mono smiles at Wander’s shadow and takes his hand. It’s slippery, and with no temperature or pulse to speak of, but she knows the calluses well.

“Yes, I think it will be enough.”

The shadow nods, slips his hand from her grasp, and presses his fingers to her chest.

Their breathing mingles, turns to mist, and for a moment nothing seems to happen. It almost doesn’t matter, feeling Wander’s touch again.

In the space of another breath, Mono feels something quicken inside her breasts, and they grow heavy. She looks at the shadow, at the way his smoky-yet-calloused fingers shift with her breathing, and can tell he’s concentrating with all his might on his task. She can almost see the set of his jaw, the intense gleam in his eyes. _You were always so serious, even when we lay together in your tent—I should’ve expected it._

She wants to reach out to him, to pull him close, but instead she strokes his knuckles with her fingers in a steady rhythm. His posture slackens, and she can imagine the peaceful expression he’d have if he were here in the flesh.

“You’re growing faint,” she manages to say, before a thick lump clogs her throat.

The shadow’s free hand reaches out to touch her cheek; his fingers are little more than a gentle breeze on her skin, now. He doesn’t say anything, but then there’s little to say that they don’t already know.

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for everything.”

It isn’t enough. But the shadow accepts it gladly, a tranquil, relieved sigh dancing against her hair.

“ _Please, take care of Agro._ ”

Mono laughs softly. “I will. Her leg is healing, now.”

“ _…Thank you. I can rest, knowing that those precious to me are safe._ ”

Mono gives the shadow’s hand at her chest a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

In an agonizingly short moment, the shadow fades away with her whispered name as its departing treasure. Mono is left alone in the temple, her fingers curled around an invisible wrist.

Then she touches her dress, and finds the fabric soaked with sweet-smelling milk.

Hot, salty tears slide down her face and stain her dress, and she laughs in bittersweet relief.

She turns on her heel and runs toward the baby’s cries, the dawn’s rays kissing her hair and flooding the temple with gold.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
